


Spark to the Flame

by Hatteress (goddammitstacey)



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Stiles is Magic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammitstacey/pseuds/Hatteress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Be the spark</em>, he said. <em>Believe</em>, he said. The next time Stiles sees Deaton he’s going to punch him in his serene, wise-old-man face. Hard.</p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>The one where Stiles and Derek are sucked into Middle Earth and trip over a dead Balrog and a half-frozen wizard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spark to the Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt fill ahoy! This one goes out to [paradisedesdemona](http://paradisedesdemona.tumblr.com/) who gets ALL the points for having been around to read a LotR crossover fic I wrote _ten freaking years ago_. Obviously, that called for another LotR crossover.

_Be the spark_ , he said.  _Believe_ , he said. The next time Stiles sees Deaton he's going to punch him in his serene, wise-old-man face. Hard.

"I think my bruises have bruises," Stiles complains as he trips over one of the millions of rocks this place seems to like shoving into his path. A strong hand catches him before he can fall and Stiles would be grateful except the grip is probably doing the same amount of damage the fall would have. "Hey,  _ow_  - I like my arm attached thanks."

"Do you ever shut up?" Derek growls and Stiles glares in the direction of the voice and hopes he's hitting the target. Because it's so fucking dark here that he can't actually  _tell_.

"I think you know me well enough by now to answer that question yourself," he says and is rewarded with a grunt and - blessedly - his arm back. Stiles rubs some feeling back into the apendage as he sighs. "We've been walking for hours, man - please tell me you're close to bloodhound-ing us outa here."

Derek snarls at the dog jab, as Stiles knew he would and eyes flash red in the darkness. It's probably fucked up that Stiles finds it reassuring. The truth is though, perpetual darkness? Scary as crap. Stiles doesn't know how he would have done this if it'd just been him sucked away from outside the rave. Derek - as much as he's a grumpy, snarly asshole is at least human contact - well, semi-human contact. And hey, werewolf senses? Totally handy when you're dimensional-fucking-portaled to god knows where.

"If you could smell what I can, you wouldn't be so eager to get to the exit," Derek says, and Stiles follows the direction of his voice, edging through the darkness with small steps and periodic flailing limbs. It doesn't help that they've been following a steady incline the entire time they've been here.

"I thought you said this place reeks of death," Stiles says. "What can be worse than that?"

For a full moment, Stiles doesn't think Derek's going to answer him and then there's suddenly a blind turn in the tunnel they've been following and Stiles has to blink against the glow of - well, not daylight, but something lighter than what they've had up 'til now. After hours of darkness, it's disorientating as hell. Then Stiles takes a breath and nearly chokes because  _jesus christ_ -

"That," Derek says, and Stiles glances over to him to see Derek's pulled one of his jacket sleeves over his hand and is using it as an impromptu gas mask. Stiles can't blame him. If the stench of whatever this is is bad for him, it must be a special hell for Derek's werewolf senses.

"What the hell  _is_  that," Stiles says, trying not to breathe.

"Sulphur," Derek says through his jacket. "And- and flesh. Burning."

Stiles feels his stomach roll over and  _die_. "Oh my god," he groans. "There's gotta be another way out of this place right? I don't wanna see-"

"This is the only way," Derek says, voice hard and something under it makes Stiles' lungs try to hide behind his spine. That's when he realises this probably isn't the first time Derek's smelled burning flesh before and oh wow - that's not at all okay. It's not even on the  _scale_  of okay. It's in another fucking  _galaxy_. "There's an opening ahead," Derek says tightly. "The air's clearer there. I can smell snow."

"Snow?" Stiles says. "Oh  _perfect_ , let me just pull on the thermals I have  _shoved up my ass_."

Derek gives him his patented  _you're an idiot_  look and Stiles doesn't know why he ever wanted to be able to see his stupid face again. "It's not deep," Derek says, like that's reassuring. He sniffs slightly, like he's scenting the air and wrinkles his nose. "I think it's the altitude. We're on a mountain."

"Oh my god, I magic-ed us to Everest," Stiles groans, pulling his jacket tighter around him. It has been getting gradually colder but nothing that would indicate they're about to walk out into a blizzard. Stiles wonders if mountains have central heating. Then suddenly, there's a new weight around his shoulders and Stiles can't help flinching before freezing completely solid because  _what the crap?_

Derek tugs on the collar of his own jacket that's now around  _Stiles'_  fucking shoulders. "It's about to get a lot colder," he says, looking anywhere but at Stiles' face and it's probably the most surreal thing that's ever happened ever.

Then of course they step outside to find a giant slab of  _dead demon_  on the mountainside and Stiles almost trips over a half-frozen wizard.

His  _life_.

**Author's Note:**

> Come fangirl with me! [hatteress.tumblr.com](http://hatteress.tumblr.com)


End file.
